Devoted
by CameoCorbin
Summary: When Kyle decides to go the extra mile to mend him and Stan’s relationship, things go gravely wrong. Soon, Stan finds himself in a race against time to save the one he loves from the grasp of a madman Kyle helped release from prison.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **When Kyle decides to go the extra mile to mend him and Stan's relationship, things go gravely wrong. Soon, Stan finds himself in a race against time to save the one he loves from the grasp of a madman Kyle helped release from prison.

Warning: This story contains slash and non-con.

**Devoted**

"YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? IT'S BECAUSE I'M FED UP WITH YOUR BULLSHIT EXCUSES ABOUT WHY WE DON'T FUCK ANYMORE!"

"BULLSHIT EXCUSES?!" screamed the redhead lawyer as he furiously gathered the mess of papers from the table into his arms.

"MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SO OBSESSED WITH SEX, YOU'D KNOW WE'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION A _THOUSAND _GODDAMN TIMES, STAN! WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?! I'M BUSY-"

"YOU'RE _ALWAYS_ BUSY! EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR A WHOLE FUCKING YEAR, BUSY AND IGNORING ME! MAYBE I SHOULD JUST START FUCKING AROUND LIKE YOU DID THREE YEARS AGO!"

Enraged, Kyle grabbed the glass with water on the table and hurled it against the wall; scarcely noticing his dark haired lover cringe at the violence. Kyle's green eyes had taken on a deadly hue.

"_I NEVER FUCKED HER!_" He screamed clenching his fists tightly at his sides. "YOU KNOW WHY I'VE BEEN SO BUSY STAN? BECAUSE UNLIKE YOU I HAVE A _REAL_ FUCKING JOB WHICH KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT!"

A brief shadow of hurt danced across the darkling man's face as he laughed bitterly.

"So that's what you think?" he asked slowly. "That coaching elementary school football isn't a real job?"

The redhead hesitated, causing the entire apartment to be cloaked in silence. His rational side urged him to appologise, but the acerbity he felt for his partner for failing to understand what this case meant to him, made him continue ruthlessly.

"Everything you see is _mine_! _I_ pay the bills and _I_ pay for the food. With what they pay you, you couldn't even pay rent."

Kyle watched his partner turn around and slowly start making his way out of the kitchen. He could almost feel the hurt emanating from his dark haired lover, even though he was not able to see it written all over his face. He knew he had hurt both his partner and his relationship; but for now he was completely unsure as to just how much or if he could mend it.

"Where are you going?" asked Kyle ruefully. Unlike Stan, his shortage in humility usually made it hard for him to appologise. When Stan's pewter eyes did not meet his, Kyle's mind was filled with various grim images of Stan leaving. Stan paused. His fingers rose to massage his temples, and his head hung as if in the dawn of one of his migraines.

"To bed," he muttered.

"So who's going to finish the dishes?" asked Kyle, nearly slapping himself for his callousness. It did not surprise him when his lover ambled wordlessly out of the kitchen and left him standing there alone and dejected.

........

Sleep came hard that night, and when it did Kyle's dreams were restless. He tried fruitlessly for four hours to review the defense he had prepared for the next day, but the argument between he and Stan weighed on his head with the magnitude of all the problems in the world. Unable to concentrate, he eventually headed to the kitchen for a bit to eat, passing Stan asleep on the couch along the way. His tall frame was curled uncomfortably under a thin rumpled sheet, and Kyle knew he would be stiff in the morning. He could barely prevent himself from moving a few strands of dark hair which had fallen into his lover's face.

Kyle cringed as a new wave of guilt suddenly assaulted him square in the face. He knew he could never begin to understand just how much those words had hurt his lover. When they were younger, everyone knew that football had been Stan Marsh's entire world. He had started playing the game when he was six years old; and by the time he was settled in South Park High, he was voted to be the most promising student and athlete in the entire town. Most likely to succeed, Kyle thought. By the time he was graduating high school, South Park's golden boy had fifteen different college offers from mostly Ivy League schools. Kyle remembered how happy and jealous he was of him, feeling like his best friend was handed so much, while he had to work three times harder for everything. Stan had opted to stay in Colorado, and in his first year of university got chosen to play for the NFL; but within two months his leg was shattered in a drunk driving accident.

Although he had his life, South Park's newest prodigy had lost his rock star status, full scholarship and eventually dropped out of medical school. By the time their relationship began, Kyle's golden boy was a prostrate, introspective, penniless mess who was plagued with migraines, debt and a small limp. It was one of the reasons which made Kyle wonder if they would be together had Stan been successful. Highly unlikely, he thought woefully, shoving a handful of greasy potato chips into his mouth. When Stan had it all, there was no shortage of beautiful women including his high school sweetheart, the buxom, raven haired Wendy Testaburger.

Kyle sighed. He doubted Stan would ever want to hear his voice if he woke him up to talk. Tonight they would rest and tomorrow he would make everything right.

.......

Blake Vaughn was a young homeless man who was wrongfully accused of the brutal rape and murder of a senator's teenage daughter. It was by far the most taxing and yet exciting case the young lawyer, Kyle Broflovski had ever worked on. It was taxing since the case was very high profile, and his client the defendant, was a methamphetamine addict. Things became even more so when it was discovered that young Blake was the sole heir to a large fortune in one of the richest families in the country. Nevertheless, it was not the parties' wealth, but the excitement that had caused people to tune in day after day to the televised trial. One of these reasons was that the first indictment might have been due as a result of the fabrication of evidence by the police who worked on the case, because of threats from the senator. The other reason lay in what was thought was a dead and buried twenty two year old scandal, which rumours said might have resurfaced in the form of the violation and murder of the senator's teenage daughter.

The fact that Vaughn's semen and pubic hair had been found on the victim's thighs did not make Kyle's job any easier since it meant proving whether the sex, was consensual or not, especially when Vaughn kept denying that he had relations with the teenage girl.

Nevertheless, as soon as Kyle had heard of the murder, he had pleaded shamelessly with one of the senior partners in the firm to be the one to defend Blake Vaughn, since it would finally be the case to put him on the map and give him more experience. Thus the senior partner, who had begun to think of Kyle as nothing less than a son, presented him the case as a birthday present. Kyle was ecstatic. He thought of himself as even more fortunate when the Vaughn clan, who had turned up later with their own high maintenance lawyer, decided to give Kyle a chance.

It was this case which had put him on an almost twenty four hour work schedule, which he later realised was also making his lover feel very miserable and neglected. He was almost never in the apartment, sometimes doing a little investigating of his own in the very late hours of the night. He never informed Stan of the death threats he received, and of the two attempts on his life as he strongly feared his disapproval. He was doing this so that he and Stan could one day regain all the things Stan had to forfeit.

........

By the time Kyle woke in the morning, he was already very late. Stan long since left for work, and he had only ten minutes to roll out of bed, get ready for work, gather his things and speed away. Thus after showering and hastily dressing himself, he fed their pet squid, grabbed what he would need and ran to his car.

Kyle smiled hopefully. He would use the day to make everything right. His first stop before going to the firm would be the bank, where he would draw enough money from his life savings. He and Stan would have a well-deserved romantic evening at a little known expensive restaurant in a bigger town miles away from South Park. They'd both spend the long drive discussing the last year, Kyle assuring Stan that even though he did come close once, he had never and would never cheat on his beloved. If Stan forgave him, they would make love over and over on the grass on a hill like they did on their first time; and both call in sick the next day to finish what they started.

Kyle's smile widened as he turned into the bank's parking lot. He should draw enough money to buy Stan a gift too – perhaps one of the newest blackberry smartphones he had seen advertising? As he walked out of the car with a smile still plastered to his face, passers-by couldn't help but stop and smile in return. Today had the potential to be the best day of his life.

_I know the first chapter is short, and has a lot of mistakes, but I'm having exams right now. I'll correct it when I get the time to, and post more as well. Please review me! _


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: I'm not sure if I mentioned it before, but this story will contain slash, rape and some amount of torture. Please don't read it if you have a problem with it.

Chapter 2

Some time after he had stepped through its glass doors, Kyle had to stop himself from exiting the building and speeding away. Several kinds of discomfort had him shifting from foot to foot, fidgeting and constantly checking his phone for missed calls and text messages.

Although work formally began at nine, ferocious competition to make partner had caused many of the younger lawyers to often sleep in their offices and awake at five or six o clock so they could start work early. Despite being one of the more hardworking and promising ones, Kyle had chosen to return home each night and spend them with his lover. However, he had often found himself leaving the firm at the blackest hours of the night, and returning sometimes in the darkest hours of the morning.

In such a large firm, a good night's sleep and stable relationships were a rare luxury, and Criminal Defense Attorneys like Kyle fared no better. While many of the partners had gone through as many as five or six divorces, each of the younger lawyers who were either married or in serious relationships seemed to be heading there quickly. The life of a cutthroat young lawyer demanded that one be cold, calculative, competitive and shrewd. Each was married to both work, and a secretary, who was usually a faceless nameless being that took calls, made appointments and organized files and stationery throughout the day.

The name of Kyle's secretary was "Rebecca", or at least that is what he called her in his head. Every day, she had somehow managed to move throughout his office silently and undetected, putting frighteningly tall stacks of papers neatly on his desk, and leaving little messages on his blackberry about meetings with clients and appointments. Throughout the three years that "Rebecca" had worked with Kyle in the firm, he could only recognize her by her voice and her handwriting.

That morning, as he stood impatiently in the line, he had received a total of twelve worried voice and text messages that were unmistakably from "Rebecca". The other very angry one was from one of the senior partners in the firm, for missing a meeting with one of their most important clients. That was the voice of the senior partner who had treated him like the son he never had. It was a voice filled with fury and disappointment, and even though it was not as pronounced, betrayal. By the next time his blackberry had begun to vibrate, Kyle had considered turning it off, as facing one angry partner, and possibly a few outraged members of the Vaughn clan, seemed particularly unappealing. However, the incessant vibrating of his phone was only one of the things that contributed to his discomfort.

To put things simply, he was exhausted, the line was long and the temperature inside was tremendously hot. He figured there must have been something wrong with the air conditioning units, since he had seen a few preoccupied men in sweaty blue jumpsuits moving hastily with their metal toolboxes in and out of the building.

The unbearable heat had made most people restless and miserable. Inhaling the occasional putrid fart and the fleeting stench of body odor, made many of those waiting in the line near him groan, cringe and cover their nose.

His ears picked up the usual dark and passionate redneck ranting drifting from the back, while a few acquiescing murmurs drowned out the soft cries of a baby some distance away.

The speaker was one of those firm charismatic types, and a part of him felt guilty for listening to the hate filled drivel that spewed from his lips. However, after he had begun to sweat, his attention became focused on him ruining one of his most expensive suits.

Kyle fanned himself furiously, ignoring the feel of the vibrating phone at his side. _What's taking so long?_ he thought craning his neck to see the front of the line, and absentmindedly wiping one sweaty palm on the side of his suit.

Although there must have been at least thirty people before him, he could still see that there was only one teller working at the moment. Her attention was being occupied by a small elderly lady, who was so old and slow, it appeared as if she could not have been younger than ninety eight years old. He watched as one of her pale, dotted gnarly hands reached into her bag slowly, as she flashed the female teller a toothless grin.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered.

Just then, a small tap on his shoulder forced him to turn around. He was immediately aware of a pale thin young woman, with bloodshot eyes and scraggly blond hair. She wore a loose black t-shirt with the words "cum bucket" written in bold white letters across it, and even though she had dark circles under her eyes and two small miserable children at her side, she still managed to give him a broad smile.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" she asked in that South Park drawl, he always found despicable.

Kyle forced himself to be civil and resisted giving her an arrogant scowl. He couldn't wait to get out of this stupid hick town, and join the ball busters in New York.

"I don't think so," he said quickly attempting to turn around, but she grabbed his shoulder and turned him around once again to face her.

"Yep, I'm sure I've seen you before," she said smiling.

"Listen lady, maybe you've seen me on TV or something, but I don't think we know each other."

"Of course! You're that bigshot lawyer from TV," she said giggling. "But don't you recognise _me_?"

Kyle blinked as the recognition suddenly hit him_. Those brown eyes_, he thought. _That blond hair_…

"Bebe?" he whispered. He fought the urge to ask what happened to turn her in the disaster that now stood before him, and all that came out of his mouth was, "Are those kids yours?"

The woman gave a hoarse laugh, and it was then that Kyle realised that her smile did not reach her eyes.

"Yep," she said nervously. "They're both mine. This one here's Donny-Ray Jr. and the little girl's Carrie-May. The next one's due in less than a month."

Kyle blinked. _The next one?_ thought Kyle. Apparently, Bebe was so thin and malnourished that her unborn child refused to show at all. _Who is the father? _he thought. _Was this the reason why Bebe disappeared after senior year?_

"I see, " he replied awkwardly, scratching his head. He glanced back at the top of the line to see if the elderly lady had moved, and realised a tall striking dark haired man now stood in her place. Kyle watched him for a moment, realizing there was something very familiar in the way his sinewy, pale body positioned itself. The man leaned forward on the counter slightly. His shoulder length raven hair fell over his face, hiding it slightly from Kyle's view.

"I was planning on getting something for Stan later, but I didn't have much cash in hand…"

Kyle's voice trailed off as he noticed the red dots on one of Bebe's inner arms. They were the same marks he had seen on Blake Vaughn's arms, when they were not covered with the sleeves of the expensive suits his family had put him in.

Before he knew he preferred men, this was the girl with whom he experimented in high school. _The mathlete…the team leader…the future congresswoman…_

In another lifetime they could have been soulmates, and lovers; for there was once a time when they had shared everything.

For a brief moment he had begun to wonder if the eldest child was his. In their trysts, they had failed to use a condom only one time, and the oldest child appeared to be the correct age…Kyle visibly paled. His eyes met those of the older male child, who gave him a dark threatening look.

As if sensing his worry, Bebe smiled gently at him.

"Donny-Ray Jr. was conceived some three weeks after I disappeared . You remember my parents died that year, right?"

Kyle nodded.

"Think I went a little crazy then and ran away. Met their daddy at a truck stop in North Park, and been shacked up ever since."

Bebe sighed and looked at the floor. The nervous smile was still plastered to her face.

"I used to be in love with you Kyle, but I figured out you were in love with Stan long before you did. Do you know how hard that was?"

A pang of guilt coursed its way through Kyle's body, and he ran his hand through his mess of red curls. At times he had found himself wondering if Bebe's disappearance might have been because she had developed feelings for him.

His dark green eyes met hers.

"If you ever need help with anything, come to me," he said.

"I can take care of myself. I don't need your-"

Bebe was interrupted by the sound of several screams. They were followed by three large explosions that caused the entire bank to erupt into a series of screams and chaos. At once, the people at the front were causing a stampede in their mad race to get to the glass exits.

Bebe grabbed her children by their arms. Her large brown eyes were pools of horror.

"What's going on?!" she screamed. "I can't see anything!"

Kyle dragged her with him against a wall. He was sure it would be much harder for the fanatical crowd to trample all four of them.

"I don't know," he said breathlessly. "I think someone just got shot."

The crowd was plunged into further chaos, as six more explosions ripped through the air. The tall pale dark haired man from earlier, along with three other men emerged calmly from the midst of the crowd. The dark haired man, who appeared to be their ringleader held the gun in the air.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! BOYS AND GIRLS! Please stop where you are," he said, twirling the gun around playfully. "This, is a stickup!"

_**Sorry for the late update. There might be a couple of mistakes in this chapter, since I wrote most of it when I was very tired. **_

_**Thank you for the reviews I've gotten so far, and the favourites. I really appreciate it. **___


End file.
